Ada
by LondonBelow
Summary: Young Estel learns that Elrond is not truly his father.


Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
*****  
  
At the sound of footsteps, Legolas looked up. Of course he could see no one nearby, but then, who should be running through the library of Imladris? Somewhere outside, though, someone was racing for all they were worth. The moment he heard the gait Legolas knew. "Hope?" he called, shutting his book and leaping to his feet. In seconds Legolas crossed the room and looked out into the corridor. Sure as anything there was Estel, turning round the corner. "Hope!" Legolas called, louder this time to be sure he was heard, but Estel would not stop.  
  
Concerned for his friend's welfare, Legolas slipped out of the library and took up the chase. Most mortals would not have known that they were being followed by an Elf, but Estel was not most mortals. Part elven himself, he had spent his childhood around those ethereally creatures, and so knew well their ways. Estel quickened his pace.  
  
His exposure to Elves had taught Estel early feelings of inadequacy, and now those feelings doubled one hundred fold. However, they in and of themselves provided him the advantage he now made use of: constantly feel the need to strive harder, to do better, Estel knew how to run from races with his foster brothers. Nevertheless, a stitch began to form in his side as the long grasses tickled his calves.  
  
Estel did not know where he was going. All he knew was that he was running as hard and as fast as he could. He meant to leave all his known world behind. With Legolas tailing him, his efforts needed be redoubled, and so they were. Sweat trickled down his back and pooled in the crooks of his knees and elbows. Air seemed pressed from his lungs. Against it all, Estel fought onwards.  
  
Legolas kept on, having hardly such troubles himself. Although he no longer called out, he felt his presence sufficiently known. Where was Estel going? Why was he running away from Legolas? The two had long been friends.  
  
It was a beautiful day. The sky had to it an especial for ever quality, a blue that appeared soft at first glances, but, when examined closer, betrayed itself to be many-layered and unending. Not a cloud billowed across the sky. Bright the sun shone warmly. A breeze ruffled the leaves of grass and trees. Had not two boys been running frantically across the scene, it might have been a perfect spring day.  
  
Estel made it to the top of a small slope and barreled down. At the bottom of the slope stood the treeline, a promise of safety. His lungs burned and he wheezed, but here it was, his salvation! He could not stop, not just yet.  
  
As he began his run down the slope Estel gathered speed, until at last his one foot met the ankle of the other and he tripped over himself, sprawling the last few feet.  
  
"Hope!" Legolas carefully but quickly sped to his friend's side. Estel remained, a crumpled heap of black hair and grass-stained blue fabric. He moved only to heave a breath. "Are you all right?" Legolas lifted Estel by the shoulders, worried by the mortal's eyes, unfocused and rolling about in his head. Not sure of what to do, Legolas shook Estel.  
  
"Don't," Estel said, brushing Legolas' hands away. When in submission the Elf took his hands away, the mortal collapsed against him, energy gone. "How far?" he managed to ask.  
  
Legolas looked at the sun and tried to gauge the distance. "I do not know. Not enough for you to be so exhausted. Are you ill?"  
  
With watering eyes Estel looked up at his friend, then he began to cry. As his tears fell Estel hugged himself, trying to keep from sobbing too loudly. Legolas put his arms around Estel without a second thought. Estel buried his face in Legolas' tunic and shook violently with each sob, scratching his throat raw.  
  
"There now," Legolas said, once Estel's sobs had ceased, "do you feel better?"  
  
Estel shook his head. "I do not think I will ever feel better, ever again," he said. Legolas smiled. The world does seem so drastic to a boy of ten years. "How long have you known?" he demanded. "Have you always known and simply not told me?"  
  
"Always known what?"  
  
"Don't do that to me! You knew! You probably knew all along, you were probably part of the conspiracy, weren't you?" He leapt away from Legolas and jumped to his knees, though they shook. "You all just. . .you just. . ." What did everyone 'just'? Estel did now know.  
  
"I swear I never did anything to hurt you," Legolas said. "Come back and talk about it, Hope. You will feel all the better for it."  
  
Estel held his elbows as he spoke. "You lied to me. You all lied!" Now he released one elbow and pulled at a lock of hair. "You knew all along that he was not my father." He was chewing on the lock of hair now, no longer winding it around his fingers. "You knew and let me go on believing. How could you do that?" Tugging at the tress, Estel loosed several strands from his scalp before Legolas grabbed him tightly to hold him be.  
  
"Stop it!" Estel fought against Legolas, utilizing elbows, knees, fists and feet. He twisted this way and that, but Legolas was strong. The Elf took the blows until Estel had tired himself enough to be calm, then he sat them both on the ground. "You might have told me," he sulked.  
  
"How did you find out?" Legolas asked.  
  
The steadiness of Estel's lip was forced as he said, "He told me himself."  
  
"Oh, Hope. . ."  
  
Without tears Estel sobbed now, not knowing what else to do. Between running, fighting, crying and simply being a pendulum of emotions, he had tuckered himself out, and fell asleep there, against Legolas on the grassy slope.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, Legolas fell onto his back, careful not to wake Estel, and he slept, also.  
  
*****  
  
What? Legolas lifted one arm from the dewy grass and blinked. He was lying beneath the stars. That explained a few things, but not the breathing problem. Ah. The breathing problem might be explained by the child sleeping on him.  
  
Legolas chuckled. "I hope I am an adequate pillow," he said quietly as he petted Estel' sleeping head.  
  
"He seems to think so."  
  
Legolas startled and looked about. "Lord Elrond! I--he--How long have you been there?" he asked.  
  
Elrond sat cross-legged not far away, his gaze fixed on the sleeping child. "A few hours," Elrond answered. "You both looked so peaceful, I did not want to wake you. I considered fetching a blanket for Estel, but it is a warm night and I did not want to miss a moment of it."  
  
The boy who had caused this awkward situation shifted in his sleep and rolled his thumb into his mouth.  
  
"What happened earlier?" Legolas asked.  
  
Elrond's face softened into lines of sorrow and regret. "He had to know, Legolas. Had he gone on believing that I sired him. . .It was not easy to hurt him like that." The Elven Lord seemed unable to take his eyes away from the sleeping form of his fostered son. "He looked so upset. Why did we ever let this charade go on? Why was it not made clear from the start: who he was, what he was doing here? He will recover but he will not forget."  
  
Overhead, a bat flew across the sky, a white drop on a black canvas. The creature emitted a series of clicks to locate its prey, which might be swept into the flap of skin between its legs and gobbled up without so much as a break in flight patterns.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Legolas asked. "When he wakes up tomorrow morning, and when he cries himself to sleep in the evening, what will you do?"  
  
Elrond looked curiously at Legolas. "I will do the same as I always have: love him and hold him until he has fallen into a troubled fit of dreams. What will you do?"  
  
Legolas shrugged. "Why should anything change? Nothing is different for either of us, Elrond. We love him the same. All that matters is letting him know that everything is just the same as always. We will come into a new way of life." He sighed. "The twins should be here now."  
  
"They rode off with the dunedain Rangers several weeks ago."  
  
"I know." Estel sighed and shifted closer to Legolas, squirming against him. Without a word the two Elves stood. Legolas lifted Estel carefully into his arms, being certain not wake him, then passed the sleeping boy into the waiting arms of his father.  
  
The two walked in silence, their path weakly lit by the sickle moon. Slowly the motion woke Estel, and he looked around for a moment, then said, "Ada?"  
  
Elrond smiled. "You should be sleeping," he reminded Estel gently. With a grin the youth nestled against Elrond and closed his eyes, his thumb subconsciously slipping into the corner of his mouth. Elrond took Estel's thumb from his mouth, but to no avail, for with a moan of complaint Estel placed his thumb again in his mouth. "All right, but only for tonight," Elrond relented.  
  
Without a word Legolas broke away from the two, silently wishing them both a good night and a pleasant morrow. Elrond continued on to Estel's bedroom and settled the boy to sleep in his bed before turning to leave.  
  
"Ada?" Estel asked without opening his eyes. "Will you stay here tonight? There's monsters under the bed. Promise not to let them get me?"  
  
Elrond knelt beside the bed, beside Estel. "There are no monster under the bed, Estel. You have not believed in that since you were small."  
  
"But there's monsters out there," Estel pointed, meaning outside of Imladris. "Elladan and Elrohir went to hunt them. They told me so."  
  
"They also told you that none of those monsters would ever hurt you here," Elrond reminded him.  
  
Estel thought about this for a moment. "Ada?" he asked again.  
  
Smiling wearily, Elrond answered, "Yes, child?"  
  
"Will you stay anyways? Just until fall asleep," he added quickly.  
  
"Well. . .all right. Only for tonight." Elrond settled himself there. He knew that he would not leave the room when Estel fell asleep. He would be there when Estel drifted away, and he would be there when Estel woke up in the morning. Just like always.  
  
*****  
  
The End 


End file.
